


In Tomoeda...

by Synonyms



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-05-31 23:26:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6491659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synonyms/pseuds/Synonyms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Non-ghoul au. Implied NOT-meta sex in a sewer, coming out to the incredibly awkward dad, and then baby. Arima-centric.<br/>Inspired by those two anons on tumblr. You know who you are. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Excerpts from the Diary of Arima Kishou

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Those two anons on tumblr](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Those+two+anons+on+tumblr).



> Arima Kishou: An absolutely normal police officer, ex-waiter at Anteiku. Most definitely not part of any black op whatsoever. Aromatic and aromantic. Likes some ice-cream in his coffee. Father of Sasaki Haise.
> 
> Sasaki Haise: An absolutely normal rising writer, ex-waiter at Anteiku, Arima Kishou’s baby boy. Actually collectively adopted by the police force after a certain incident with his biological mother. Transman. Likes to make puns. Best friend of Nagachika Hideyoshi.
> 
> Nagachika Hideyoshi: An absolutely normal junior detective. Most definitely not a high-ranked member of any black op whatsoever. Gay for his best friend. Likes to make puns. Best friend of Sasaki Haise.
> 
> Anteiku: An absolutely normal coffee shop not connected to any black op whatsoever. Makes great ice-cream expresso and expresso syrup.
> 
> The alternate Tokyo’s name is Tomoeda. No relation to CCS’s Tomoeda whatsoever.
> 
> The crab’s name is Rize. She’s little Washuu-Furuta-Kajitsu-Obst Nimura’s big sister.

**July 20th.**

Haise is missing. The gang Hide-san was investigating kidnapped Haise when he was exploring the city sewer. The police force is searching for clues. I have received the permission to liquefy them. Hide-san was apoplectic with rage.

**July 21st.**

Haise was found by Hide-san in an absurdly spacious sewer underneath a certain coffee shop. The kidnappers had been rendered non-existent. Haise wanted to spend the night with Hide-san.

There are several bite marks on Haise’s neck. He also seems to be running a fever. He must have had an infection. I warned Hide-san to keep a close eye on Haise for the night. He turned as red as Haise. I’ll buy some extra antibiotics just in case.

**July 22th.**

Haise asked for permission to spend  another week at Hide-san’s. I accepted after he promised to properly apply the antibiotic cream to the infection.

Taishi stared at me one minute longer than he usually does when I told him that Haise would be staying over with Hide-san for another week.

I don’t understand Taishi.

**July 30th.**

Haise has returned. His fever had gone up. Because of his turtleneck, I couldn’t check the state of the bite marks. I insisted that he go to the hospital for a check-up on the next day anyway.

**July 31st.**

Fortunately, he only needed to take some iron pills.

The doctor stared at me for one minute and thirty five seconds, seven seconds longer than civilians usually do. I wonder why.

**August 11th.**

Haise started to eat more recently and has gained observable weight. When I mentioned it, Akira-kun excused herself to talk to Haise, who was looking rather pale. I hope she wasn’t too hard on him. He is a writer, after all. Sitting on a chair all day long doesn’t allow for much exercising.

I heard her yelling at Hide-san later. Things must have gone well.

**August 27th.**

**Entry 1:**

There was a live crab in the mailbox today. The prankster had been taken care of.

Haise has gained more weight. He needs to exercise. The sedentary life of a writer isn’t good for his health.

**Entry 2:**

Akira-kun scolded me for going overboard with Haise’s training. Even Amon-kun got mad after I told him.

I don’t understand. It was only a light sparing session.

**September 1st.**

**Entry 1**

…

…

When did this happen?

**Entry 2**

Akira-kun told me that Haise is pregnant with Hide-san’s child.

When did this happen?

**Entry 3**

When did this happen.

**Entry 4**

Haise refused to meet me in the eyes and kept apologizing.

Despite all that, the determined expression on his face is nostalgic of that he had when he came out.

 

That’s my child.

**September 2nd.**

Today, during training, I asked Take to tell me how to tell them that I know they know I know.

He refused to answer.

**September 3rd.**

Today, at the meeting, I asked Taishi and Akira-kun to tell me how to tell them that I know they know I know.

They refused to answer.

**September 4th**

Today, at Donut Meister, I asked Amon-kun to tell me how to tell them that I know they know I know.

He ran away.

**September 8th.**

**Entry 1:**

Today, during training, I asked Yoshimura-san to tell me how to tell them that I know they know I know.

He said: “Later, Kishou-kun, preferably when we’re not shooting at the enemies.”

—

_“How about now?”_

_“Later, Kishou-kun, preferably when the enemies aren’t shooting at us.”_

_—_

_“How about now?”_

_“Later, Kishou-kun, preferably when Ukina-san has returned.”_

_—_

_“How about now?”_

_“My apologies, Kishou-kun, but Ukina-san and Eto-chan told me not to tell you anything.”_

—

  **Entry 2:**

To be honest, I am getting desperate. I don’t want to make Haise sad anymore.

**September 19th.**

**Entry 1**

Washuu Yoshitoki-san kicked me out of his other office when I brought up the subject.

Little Nimura stopped playing with his crab for a moment to stare scandalously at me.

I don’t understand.

I think I will talk to Kirishima-san next.

**Entry 2:**

Kirishima-san lost her temper and threw a book at me. She told me to “just give him a book, ****!”

 

I think I will follow her advice.

**September 20th**

Today, at Big Girl, Haise is on a date with Hide-san. From what I’ve gathered from the media, popping in to say hello is the expected thing to do, so I did so and gave Haise the books about pregnancy in the For Dummies series. It seems to be popular among expectant parents, and I personally find the other parts of the series quite useful.

Unexpectedly, Haise beamed at me over the plate of pasta. I can’t help but return one in return, though I think it may have come across as something different because the smile turned into a full-out laugh. Then, he hugged me and said: “Thanks, dad.”

Haise is happy, and I feel… happy, too.

Just for that, I will save the stern talk with Hide-san for another day.


	2. How (not) to wash your hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haise's incredibly awkward dad tried to hold his baby. Everyone is happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arima Kishou: An absolutely normal police officer, ex-waiter at Anteiku. Most definitely not part of any black op whatsoever. Aromatic and aromantic. Likes some ice-cream in his coffee. Father of Sasaki Haise.  
> Sasaki Haise: An absolutely normal rising writer, ex-waiter at Anteiku, Arima Kishou’s baby boy. Actually collectively adopted by the police force after a certain incident with his biological mother. Transman. Likes to make puns. Developed a craving for oranges and his husband in a dress during Hideyoshi Jr’s pregnancy. Best friend and husband of Nagachika Hideyoshi.  
> [Sasaki Hideyoshi](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sasaki_Hideyoshi), or Hideyoshi Jr, or just [Josh](http://www.behindthename.com/name/joshua) ~~(Let’s pretend that they’re all fluent in English, shall we?)~~ : An absolutely normal newborn baby. Most definitely not the unofficial heir of any ex-terrorist cell or any black op whatsoever. Likes oranges.  
> Nagachika Hideyoshi: An absolutely normal junior detective. Most definitely not a high-ranked member of any black op whatsoever. Gay for his best friend/husband. Likes to make puns. Developed a liking towards dresses during Hideyoshi Jr’s pregnancy. Best friend and husband of Sasaki Haise.  
> Takatsuki Sen/Eto: An absolutely normal famous author, ex-waitress at Anteiku. Most definitely not the head of any ex-terrorist cell or any black op whatsoever. Aromatic but not aromantic. Likes some coffee in her syrup. Unofficial mother of Sasaki Haise.  
> Anteiku: An absolutely normal coffee shop not connected to any black op whatsoever. Makes great ice-cream expresso and expresso syrup.  
> Alternate chapter title: A trip to the outskirts of Tomoeda.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

The water runs red.

Standing atop the live flowers, the White Death God thinks: “This is not evil. Living is not evil.”

A slash. A stab. Another slash. And then,

it rains.

The water runs red.

“It’s worth it.”

The water runs red.

“It’s for them.”

The scent of orange wafts by.

—

Home is the place one returns to.

Home is the place in which one lives.

Home is where they are.

With a bone-deep exhaustion, he stops by his house that smells of antiseptics and antibiotics and bandages and gauzes before he goes home. He needs a shower. He doesn’t think that visiting a new born baby in his current state is wise. According to the books, a newborn’s immune system is very delicate.

The door is shut with a resounding click.

—

The water runs red. He watches the soap bubbles going down the drain in lieu of staring into empty space. The sting of the scratch on his cheek is a beautiful lullaby, keeping awake even as it lulls him to sleep.

He hopes the baby will like the scent of orange. It has always been Haise’s favorite.

The water runs colorless, or, is it pink? He doesn’t know. His eyesight has been getting worse lately. Even in a brightly-lit bathroom, he still has troubles making out the colors.

Just to be on the safe side, he reaches for the bar of soap again.

And again.

And again.

Just to be on the safe side.

—

Fortunately, the secret Washuu Private Hospital is only a block away from his house, so he doesn’t need to walk very far to reach his destination.

Unfortunately, the waiting room attached to home is a bit crowded.

In one corner of the room, the Kirishima siblings are trying and failing not to fall asleep and eating at the same time. Hinami has already given up on the endeavor in favor of collapsing on Kirishima-san’s laps.

In another corner, a similar scene also plays out. The only difference is that no one is actually trying to fight back sleep over there. Shirazu must have been the one to sleep first, for Mutsuki’s head is on his right shoulder, Kuki’s is on his left, and Saiko’s back is on his lap. With her head on Mutsuki’s thigh and her legs on top of Kuki’s, Saiko must have been the last one out of the Quinxes, surprisingly enough. They will have trouble separating themselves later.

His grandchildren are really cute.

Judging by the click of a camera in the red-eyed Akira-kun’s direction, she must think so, too.

“You’re late.” Washuu Matsuri intones from behind the white-haired man. Washuu Matsuri looks about as bedraggled as he is. Directing five operations at once for three days straight has taken its toll on everyone, and even Washuus are no exception to the rule.

“Sometimes, I must be late.” He is the White Death God, after all.

“The rest room is over there. Go wash your hands.” Washuu Matsuri orders with what could have passed off as his usual irritation at the rest of the world had it not been for the soft look in his eyes. He must be thinking of his nephew.

Home is where your heart is.

The scent of orange wafts by.

For just one moment, a flash of emotion takes over him, something sharp, something longing, something painful. He quickly disregards it out of habit.

Nodding once, the White Death God strides quickly to his destination.

—

The water runs colorless, or is it pink? He doesn’t know. His eyesight has been getting worse lately. Even in a brightly-lit rest room, he still has troubles making out the colors.

Just to be on the safe side, he reaches for the bar of soap again.

The water runs pink. He watches the soap bubbles going down the drain in lieu of staring into empty space. There is no sting on his cheek, no lullaby to keep him awake, no lullaby to lull him to sleep.

Here, in the confine of a blank white rest room, he is alone.

It’s entirely logical, he surmises, for restrooms are made for privacy.

The hospital’s soap smells of nothing. Surreptitiously, he wishes it had been scented orange. He thinks his family will appreciate it.

“It was for them.”

The water runs red.

“It was worth it.”

One finger, the crack betweens two fingers, another finger, his entire palm, and then,

it rains.

The water runs red.

Standing atop the blank white tiles in an empty rest room, the family man thinks: “This is not evil. Living is not evil.”

Click. Clack. Click. Clack.

.

He watches the soap bubbles going down the drain in lieu of staring into empty space.

.

Suddenly, a familiar biting voice rings out:

“Oi, wake up, Kishou-tan. Keep taking your sweet time and Hideyoshi will fall asleep again.”

Looking into the mirror, he sees that Takatsuki-san is standing right behind him. With her usual sharp smile plastered in place, she looks quite fed up with what he presumes to be Arima Kishou himself.

“This is the men’s rest room, Takatsuki-san.”

Unnerved as he is, those words slip out of him without his notice. Even though Ukina-san and Haise (and now, apparently, Hideyoshi, too) are the only two (three) people she has ever shown affection to, Takatsuki-san has always acted more antagonistically to him. He must admit that he doesn’t understand her one bit.

He doesn’t think he wants to understand her, so he doesn’t.

He goes back to watching soap bubbles going down the drain.

The water still runs red.

Clicking her tongues in irritation ( _ah, there is that word again_ ), the small-statured Takatsuki-san, as usual, invades his personal space before turning off the faucet herself.

The perfume she’s wearing today smells of orange, or is it perfume in the first place?

“And I don’t fucking care, Ki-tan.” Acid green eyes look at him in a challenge, as if she were a teacher and he were one of her slower students who just wouldn’t get it no matter what.

.

“Arima Kishou, don’t you want to go home?”

.

The water still runs red.

.

“I need to wash my hands.”

He makes to turn the faucet on again.

Slapping a wet hand to her powered face, Takatsuki-san seems to mumble something about God and blind idiots and soap and hallucinations and sleep-derivation under her breath. He tries not to hear any of it. When people say things quietly, it means that they don’t want others to listen, so it would be rude if he accidentally infringed upon what should have been her private thoughts.

“They’re already clean, you idiot. The water has run clear long ago.”

.

.

.

Oh. It really is. His hands may be scrubbed red and raw, but they are clean.

The water has run colorless long, long ago.

The scent of orange wafts by.

He wants to go home.

He wants to see his family again.

It’s been a long, long three days.

.

.

“Thank you, Takatsuki-san.”

He must have made her mad again, for Takatsuki-san abruptly turns her back to him and walks away. With the click, clack, click, clack sound of her high heels on the white tiles, the small green-haired author leads the giant white-haired family man to where his home is.

“What an idiot.” The author’s melodic voice reverberates across the white rest room.

The scent of orange wafts by.

.

.

.

“And don’t call me that. It’s Eto-sama to you.”

.

.

.

“Yes”, _Takatsuki-san_.

—

Home is the place one returns to.

Home is the place in which one lives.

Home is where they are.

Home smells of orange.

“Hi, grandpa.” Haise, glowing and happy and healthy and alive, waves one of Hideyoshi’s tiny hands at him. The newborn, with his round brown eyes and hairless head, gurgles at him in an imitation of his father.

He read in a book once that first impression is everything.

He wants to be a cool grandfather.

He grins and waves back, just like how the books told him to, and hopefully just like how Hide-san always do. How do people wave? More importantly, how do people grin? He still doesn’t quite understand the notions.

He can hear snickering behind his back. He must have failed then.

His lips pull down all by themselves, failing him the happy grin as well.

He doesn’t understand. He did everything just as the books said.

“Hi, dad.” Hide-san, bedraggled and happy and panda-eyed and in his maternity dress and snickering, waves at him from the floor.

On Hide-san’s dress lays a heap of orange peels.

“Hi, dad.” Haise, glowing and happy and healthy and alive and snickering, waves at him from his bed.

On Haise’s bedside table lays a heap of peeled oranges.

His lips turn up all by themselves.

.

“Hi, kids. I’m home. Sorry, I’m late.”

Big brown eyes stare at his hair as Hideyoshi gurgles in forgiveness. A second attempt at being a cool grandfather is permitted.

He nods back his “thank you.”

Hideyoshi continues to stare at his hair

.

.

.

and waves his tiny hands at him.

.

.

.

“Oh my god, Ki-tan, take his hands! Wait. Hold on, I’ve got to get my camera.”

Click. Clack. Click. Clack.

The scent of orange wafts by.

Haise nods his approval.

Slowly, carefully, the white-haired family man reaches out and takes one of those tiny hands into his.

His grandchild’s skin is soft and smooth, so unlike his rough and calloused own. Just for a moment, he thinks of red water, but just for moment, for the water is… clear now.

It’s clear, and it smells of orange.

His eyes turn wet all by themselves. How queer.

“Would you like to hold him, dad?” Haise, glowing and happy and healthy and alive, asks him with laughter in his voice. “I need my hands to eat my oranges.”

.

“I would love to, my child.”

He wonders how he looks like right now. Someone as (according to Takatsuki-san) “sadistic and massive” as himself holding such a fragile and precious life in his arms must be quite a sight.

Big brown eyes continues to stare as delicate hands take hold of his hair

and pull

and pull

and pull some more.

.

His lips turn up all by themselves.

His grandchild is really cute.

Haise’s stuffing his mouth full of orange slices.

Hide-san’s twirling around in his orange dress.

A click of a camera.

“Careful there, Ki-tan.”, sings his rival for the title of the coolest grandparent. “Hideyoshi may fall asleep on you, and then what will you do~?”

.

The scent of orange wafts by.

.

Yes, this is his home. He is home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the end, Hideyoshi did end up falling asleep on Arima. He spent the next 40 minutes standing there like a statue, holding the baby in his arms.  
> Even Haise stopped stuffing his face long enough to laugh at his incredibly awkward father.

**Author's Note:**

> The baby’s name is Sasaki Hideyoshi.


End file.
